


The Return

by paintstroke



Series: Taken in stride [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bedroom Sex, Boys In Love, Butt Plugs, Control, Domestic smut, Dominance, Dry Orgasm, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Lemon, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, PWP, Playful Sex, Possessive Behavior, Shower Sex, Smut, Switching, Top!Yuuri, bottom!Victor, tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintstroke/pseuds/paintstroke
Summary: A grin blossomed over Yuuri’s face. A dark and wicked grin. “Oh, Viktor…. You didn’t…?” Delight pulled the words into a sultry accusation. Unwavering fingers stroked through his silver hair, brushing it out of his eyes. Viktor cursed the telling blush that Yuuri’s tone beckoned to his cheeks.“Because of me?” Yuuri crooned softly, with a touch of wonder in his eyes that melted Viktor’s heart immediately.It was that look of wonder, almost awe, that broke him in the end, because of how desperately Viktor wanted Yuuri to realize how enthralling he was when he was like this. He nodded once, pressing a kiss into the sweatpants he quietly hated. He let out his breath in a shaky sigh, “Oh, Yuuri, if you knewhalfof what you do to my self-control…”Viktor realized that it was a trap springing shut rather than a sexy admission just a moment too late, when Yuuri’s fingers stroking through his hair tightened into a fist, pulling his head back slightly...





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated to everyone who left comments on ‘Oh - before you go...’. This sequel wouldn’t have happened without you. <3 I have no idea how my silly little PWP scene spawned this monster but I hope you enjoy the sequel. 
> 
> Also, in my head, Viktor’s apartment will always be the one shown on the TV version, not the DVD edit, so descriptions go with that…

Viktor thought he had never been so happy to open his own apartment door. His hand practically shook as he was finally able to grasp the handle. Viktor wasn’t a man to usually lose his composure. He _prided_ himself on being able to take things in stride. But since they’d met, Yuuri continually challenged that grace. 

Today he was left trembling like a teenager, anticipation knotting his stomach as he stepped into the apartment. _Patience,_ he told himself. _Just a little while longer._

“I’m home,” he called out. There wasn’t an answer. Worry snapped along his chest. He’d finished free skates with a heart-rate lower than this.

He slid the floor-to-ceiling mirrored door of the closet out of the way, finding a free space between the press of his and Yuuri’s jackets. Every little action seemed to take so much longer than usual. 

The combination of excitement and cold weather made his fingers unnaturally clammy, clumsy. They seemed like they belonged to someone else as he draped his coat over the hanger. It slipped off when his wrist shook, and he stared daggers at the dark fabric, rebuking it silently as it crumpled to the floor. _So far away._

He was Viktor Nikiforov.  
Headlines still called him a living legend. 

He would _not_ throw off all his clothes half a metre from the doorway and launch himself onto the bed (this time, a cheerful little voice had to add. He reserved the right to try that strategy in the future). He would keep some measure of dignity tonight. 

Yuuri deserved _that_ much of a challenge at least. 

With a resigned sigh, Viktor bent to pick up the offending coat. Just as he expected, crouching made his awareness of the butt plug flare vividly to life, powerful muscles shifting it inside him, tilting at new angles. At least here he was finally close to relief. Yuuri’s words were still tattooed into his mind, _‘I want to make sure you’re ready to take me… tonight…’_

He was Viktor Nikiforov.  
And his wonderful, beautiful, suddenly _shameless_ fiancé had apparently gotten in touch with his sadistic side.

Viktor had no idea if Yuuri had known that the damned thing would be so constantly noticeable, if Yuuri picked it out with every intention of this happening, or if it was just some consequence of it being _Yuuri’s idea_ that imbued the toy with the power to tease just enough, all the time, never letting him forget about it or Yuuri’s promise. 

The afternoon had been sweet agony, especially when the afternoon meeting bled into a leisurely invitation to a celebratory dinner as the deal terms closed and the contract was signed. He’d tried to beg out of it, offering excuses, of needing to get home, but Yakov knew his ‘official’ schedule. A heavy hand had squeezed his shoulder and he’d been bent to the will of his coach and manager. Yakov knew how to milk the favours that Viktor owed him, and Viktor didn’t know if his debt would ever be fully paid, not after Yakov took him back mid-season and let Viktor bring Yuuri with him. 

Viktor shoved the jacket and hanger back into the hall closet. He didn’t bother to untie his shoes, just pried them off and kicked them haphazardly into the neat line of footwear. There was a light on still, and he hoped that meant that the lack of an answer didn’t mean that he was alone in the apartment. As he walked into the open living room, he caught sight of Makkachin in his dog bed, looking sleepy and content. Probably already fed and walked then. “You used to be such a good friend,” Viktor teased the dog softly. “What happened to greeting me?” Makkachin looked up at him, tail wagging happily. The old dog raised a foreleg and twisted onto his back, offering his belly for pats. 

Viktor gave his dog a silent apology as he moved past him. _I’ll make it up to you later, Makkachin._

Yuuri was sitting at the low wooden table in the kitchen, reading something on his phone. His legs were crossed on the seat of the chair and a mug of tea was still steaming slightly in front of him.

He looked so innocent like that, his tangle of dark hair grown slightly shaggy, drawstring of the hood of Viktor’s cozy grey track jacket in his mouth, headphones in and oblivious to Viktor’s return. 

_Was this really the same person?_

Moving quietly in socks, Viktor edged over behind his lover. He leaned into his arms, bracketing Yuuri, keeping his hips far away from the back of the chair lest he give into the desire to just rut against Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri looked up, and the sudden smile that spread across his face was touching. Viktor remembered a time when rapid-fire flashes of shock, surprise, and fear would chase across Yuuri’s face at Viktor’s closeness, followed by a flinch away. But now, Yuuri simply pulled his headphones out. Viktor wondered if smiling like that hurt Yuuri’s cheeks – it seemed impossibly wide.

“Hi,” Yuuri’s broad smile softened as the younger skater stretched upwards, leisurely dipping into a backbend over the chair. His outstretched hands brushed over the edge of Viktor’s jaw, featherlight pressure encouraging Viktor down to him.

Viktor was helpless to deny that. He let those delicate touches guide him as if they were the tightest grip, moving his mouth down to gently meet Yuuri’s lips. 

He tried to follow Yuuri’s serene, sensual lead. He fought to stay reserved, as if he could possibly still be in control somehow. As if in his mind he wasn’t fighting a vicious battle against the impulse to take over completely, to show Yuuri just how absolutely insane today had made him, to lift him up and pin him down over the table, pull the sweatpants down just enough take him right there, full of pent-up frustration and passion... 

His knuckles scraped against pale-grained wood as his hands curled into fists. 

Yuuri tasted like green tea, faintly bitter, a contrast to the gentle and sweet flicker of his tongue against Viktor’s lips. Viktor gave a strangled sound, unable to stay nearly so chaste. Tortured by the afternoon of waiting, Viktor deepening the kiss quickly, the textured sensation of the tops of their tongues an unusual addition. Beneath him Yuuri moaned. The fingers brushing Viktor’s jaw slid back to tangle in his hair, holding him roughly as Yuuri gave back as good as he’d gotten, claiming Viktor’s mouth for his own. 

He pushed up on Viktor slightly, pausing to let both of them catch their breath. 

“You made me wait,” Yuuri commented lightly, a small smile still playing across his lips as he focused on Viktor’s reaction. 

“I texted...” Viktor’s reply was slightly petulant. He’d done all he could to get home earlier. His stomach dropped rapidly into a weightless tumble with the dawning apprehension that Yuuri would use this as an excuse to make him wait more, as if he _hadn’t_ already been waiting for hours, that damned toy teasing him the entire time.

Yuuri sat up, turned to face Viktor more directly. 

“Oh, but I hate eating alone.” That whimsical smile was still there, a sign that Yuuri was using this as an excuse, but wasn’t truly irritated. Yuuri’s eyes positively sparked, vibrant in the soft apartment light. Viktor watched them glow with a sinking feeling. He was in trouble. He couldn’t look away.

Yuuri unfolded his legs, pushing his chair away from the table and turning it to the side. His eyes flicked to the floor in front of him, and he tilted his chin up at Viktor, expectation in his eyes. 

Viktor stared mutely. 

Yuuri’s eyebrow rose, his blank expression turning into a mild threat. 

Viktor was not entirely sure if he understood what Yuuri wanted, so he made a guess and knelt carefully where Yuuri had looked, sinking to his knees in between Yuuri’s legs. Slowly. With just a few exaggerated crinkles of his eyebrows and pursed lips, trying to show just how much the toy was still affecting him as he moved.

He looked up, searching Yuuri’s face for a sign that this was the right thing to do. A short nod answered. 

“Give me your hand,” Yuuri requested, his slightly serious expression making the words a command. Viktor searched his face, feeling his heartbeat start to race at the subtle signs that Yuuri was ready to start taking control. 

Viktor offered one hand up to Yuuri, sinking back onto his ankles for balance, as Yuuri didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move. 

Yuuri’s hand stroked over Viktor’s, and Viktor had to hold his breath for a moment, watching Yuuri’s face go tender as his fingertips traced the tendons over the back of his hand, over the back of his wrist, swirling and dipping low under the stiff cuff of his dark dress-shirt cuff, making the motion suggestive. Viktor wasn’t sure if he managed to hide the shiver that it sent through him. Yuuri pulled his fingers out leisurely, turning Viktor’s hand. He slowly undid the cufflink, an adorable look of concentration settling over his features. He set the onyx and silver clasp aside, pulling Viktor’s wrist to his lips. “You always smell so good…” Yuuri whispered, tongue flicking out slightly. He ran a slow hot line from Viktor’s sensitive wrist to the palm of his hand, pressing a kiss there as punctuation. Viktor stared in shaky amazement, stroking his fingers softly across Yuuri’s soft cheek since his hand was held so close. Irresistible Yuuri Katsuki. 

“Other hand,” Yuuri commanded softly, pressing the hand he held back towards Viktor and gesturing for his right one. 

Viktor let Yuuri repeat the process, realizing slowly just how much _more_ trouble he was in if he was this hard already and Yuuri had barely touched him. He looked up, caught between fondness and wonder, everything layered on top of his aching anticipation. When he was allowed to, Viktor took his unsteady hand and put it back on his lap, looking up at Yuuri, quiet and pleading. 

“Take off your jacket.”

Awkward wasn’t usually a word that applied to him, but tonight it fit. Viktor blamed the nearby table legs and the chair in front of him for getting in his way rather than the way Yuuri was shaking him down to his core. He felt the blush in his cheeks. It was getting hard to look up, knowing that Yuuri was watching him more clumsily like this. Knowing that Yuuri was the one bringing him to this state. Knowing that he’d been craving this so badly.

He stripped the jacket from his shoulders and let it fall to the ground, unheeded. 

“So tell me, Viktor, were you good today?” Yuuri traced the edge of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his head up with a slight pressure on his chin. Viktor drank in the sight of his lover, loving the quiet strength that dominance brought to Yuuri’s features. Unfortunately, looking up at Yuuri when he was in this kind of mood also made Viktor’s mind practically fizz with white noise. 

But he was Viktor Nikiforov.  
He could take this desire in stride. 

“I was, Yuuri,” he purred, pressing his cheek into the gentle hand by his face. “So good.” He slowly blinked his eyes, knowing the reaction he could get when he looked up from underneath his silver fringe of eyelashes.

“You didn’t take out your gift then?” Yuuri asked, lips quirking upwards in a small smile. 

“It’s still where you left it…” Viktor tried not to let desperation colour his words, not after being left in this state for the entire afternoon and early evening. The lazy sensuality was slowly dissolving from his voice. The edges were starting to show through, sharp and needy. It was a struggle to try to keep his words steady when he had to forcibly remind himself to breathe. 

Yuuri leaned very close, lips brushing Viktor’s cheek as he spoke. “And you didn’t touch yourself?” 

Viktor stiffened, still not quite used to hearing such… direct... questions from Yuuri. And certainly not expecting to have to answer them. “No,” he lied quickly, eyes pressing shut briefly as he smiled. He felt his heart start to thunder and palms start to sweat. _‘Seriously?’,_ he scolded his body. It was just a question. Just a question from his lover, his fiancé, who was dressed in sweatpants and a stolen grey track jacket, big sweet eyes framed in blue glasses – not a threat, he tried to convince himself. The room was starting to feel positively hot. There was no way that Yuuri could know that sometime after the taxi ride from absolute hell, sometime between the three course dinner where he could barely pick at any of the food, his resolve had broken, and he’d …

No.

His stomach twisted as Yuuri stayed silent. Stayed still. Stayed so close that his breath tickled warmly against his cheek as he considered Viktor’s words. Viktor tried to calm his heartbeat, brushing his cheek cat-like against Yuuri’s. Affectionately. He could fix this, it wasn’t _quite_ a lie if he added, “All I could think about was coming home to you.” Because that _was_ a truth. 

“Viktor… you wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” Yuuri chastised him, using a slow, measured voice. An exciting sort of dread started to claw at his chest. Viktor wasn’t sure what he could get away with, and knew he didn’t want to lie to Yuuri… but still… 

The warmth against his cheek disappeared. Yuuri leaned back in the chair, looking like he was considering something, eyes all alight. Viktor listed forward, chasing the sensation of touch. 

He pressed his cheek into Yuuri’s knee, just brushing his inner thigh. From here he could tell Yuuri was just as excited as he was. “I don’t think that sounds like something I would do…” he offered an innocent, trustworthy smile.

A grin blossomed over Yuuri’s face. A dark and wicked grin. “Oh, Viktor…. You didn’t…?” Delight pulled the words into a sultry accusation. Unwavering fingers stroked through his silver hair, brushing it out of his eyes. Viktor cursed the telling blush that Yuuri’s tone beckoned to his cheeks. 

“Because of me?” Yuuri crooned softly, with a touch of wonder in his eyes that melted Viktor’s heart immediately. 

It was that look of wonder, almost awe, that broke him in the end, because of how desperately Viktor wanted Yuuri to realize how enthralling he was when he was like this. After a long pause, he nodded once, pressing a kiss into the sweatpants he quietly hated. He let out his breath in a shaky sigh, “Oh Yuuri, if you knew _half_ of what you do to my self-control…”

Viktor realized that it was a trap springing shut rather than a sexy admission just a moment too late, when Yuuri’s fingers stroking through his hair tightened into a fist, pulling his head back slightly. 

Yuuri looked the part; somewhere between sadistic and gleeful. Dark hair danced over his eyes as he shook his head slowly. “They were right, you don’t listen…” he murmured, although the words had far more triumph than regret in them. 

_They,_ who? Viktor wondered with mild outrage, before more urgent concerns took over. Yuuri was pulling his head further back, exposing his throat in a long line. Viktor bared his teeth against the slight edge of pain, panting slightly as Yuuri held him there. Blue-green eyes locked with brown in teasing defiance. 

“That’s so… disobedient, Viktor. You couldn’t wait a few more minutes to get home to me? You had to touch yourself right there? Hmmm?” 

It had been a _long_ time since any emotion with even a passing resemblance to shame had resided in Viktor’s chest. But here he played the part, turning his head to the side slightly, as much as he could, looking back through the curtain of his bangs apologetically. Yuuri made a small tsking sound and let him go, Viktor slouching forward slightly, hands clenching into his own thighs. 

Yuuri’s finger tapped against his own lip in a thoughtful pose. Viktor watched it, wanting to be kissing Yuuri again, wanting to feel those amazing lips against his body. Wanted to make them shout terrible, wonderful things in the heat of passion. He should have kept lying. 

Viktor opened his mouth slightly, touched his tongue briefly to the centre of his upper lip. He looked up at Yuuri and put the promise of what he was willing to do to make it up to him from this position on his knees in front of him…

But Yuuri was the master of ignoring rather obvious hints.  
Or maybe tonight, Yuuri was just _his_ master. 

“Stay still. Keep your hands where they are.” Yuuri leaned forward, loosening Viktor’s tie with a casual intimacy that forced Viktor to fight harder against the impulse to disobey - again. 

“But tell me what sent you over that edge… I want to hear details.”

Viktor’s self control was fraying as his expected release was starting to feel further and further away. Story. Yes. He could still do stories. He licked his lip, trying to gather enough words into his mind to make it worth listening to. “Should I start by telling you how devious it felt to walk into public transit like this? How every step on the stairs made your ‘gift’ move inside of me? How…. delicious it was to think of you waiting for me to return, wanting me? How much I still want you to push me down on the bed and take me like you promised?” 

Viktor watched carefully, unobtrusively trying to find the words and phrases that made Yuuri’s hands pause, shake, go unsteady on his chest. 

“It made me think of that every second. To look around and wonder if anyone around could guess, if they know how lascivious my fiancé truly is? Hmm?” Viktor felt the tie pull through his collar. “I couldn’t think in the meeting. I don’t think I said anything. Yakov was so angry - he yelled at me for looking so bored, after. But every time I shifted on my chair - there it was. I was imagining so many things… fantasies that you would take me bent over the couch, or have me roughly against a wall when I returned… what could my cruel lover possibly be planning with his sweet tortures?” 

Yuuri’s hands moved to the buttons on Viktor’s vest. His little katsudon gone all blushing and embarrassed and incredibly turned on, if Viktor could read him right. Unfortunately, Viktor loved to talk almost as much as Yuuri loved listening and he was making himself harder by the moment, too. “Kneel up higher,” Yuuri mumbled, a bit breathless as he tried to reach the lower buttons. 

Viktor drew in a shaky breath as he rose up onto his knees, still trying to keep a coy expression. “The taxi to the restaurant was a test straight from hell… there I was, hyperaware of every little sensation around me. The hum of the engine. The shock of each pothole. Everything channelled through that toy. I couldn’t stop wishing that it was you next to me. I had cramps in my fingers from holding onto the door handle to keep myself from losing control - and next to Yakov no less.” The memory of that particular trial still made his ears burn. 

Yuuri’s fingers start working on undoing the line of buttons on Viktor’s black dress shirt, getting tantalizingly close to bare skin. 

“I wished you were there. I couldn’t eat. So many fantasies were in my head and I had to smile and make smalltalk. I lasted almost until dessert. I would have dragged you back with me to the bathroom, Yuuri. I wouldn’t have been able to help myself,” he purred, teasingly. “You ruin my self control, even when you’re far away.” 

Viktor’s words stumbled into silence when Yuuri traced a single finger down his chest, slipping over the exposed skin, running in a slow unbroken line from the pulse in his throat to the edge of his pants. Yuuri tilted his head. “And…”

“And I couldn’t help but stroke myself and think of you…” Viktor murmured softly, unable to find the words to decorate the story anymore, just wanting desperately for Yuuri to continue to undress him, to touch him, to end this terrible, wonderful wait. 

“Did you cum?” Yuuri’s voice skittered slightly over the last word.

Viktor’s eyes slipped shut, still in absolute disbelief at how the smoldering mix of innocence and sin could blend and separate so easily in one person, and how erotic the result was. “No.” Although now he half-regretted it, since he was in trouble anyway and release seemed a long way off. 

Yuuri seemed slightly unfocused, silent. Yuuri’s hands slid under the layers of shirt and vest, caressing gently over Viktor’s chest, pushing the fabric slowly off of his shoulders while touching the newly exposed skin, before trailing down his front, fingers spreading gentle over his ribcage, lower...

“Stand up.” Yuuri’s own breathing was taking on a ragged cadence. 

Viktor’s hand clenched onto the table as he stood up. It kept at least one hand from shaking. Yuuri’s hands danced away from the planes of his stomach, fisting in the lavish material. “Off,” Yuuri commanded as he let the material go. 

Viktor shrugged the rest of the way out of the shirt and vest, and let them fall over the other chair.

Yuuri hooked a finger underneath the front of his belt and tugged once, wordless, a demand in his dark eyes. Slowly, Viktor undid the buckle, drawing the expensive leather from his tailored pants. Yuuri held out his hand, and Viktor coiled the belt before placing it in Yuuri’s palm. Viktor’s mouth was rapidly going dry. 

The belt was set aside. Yuuri lifted an eyebrow and reached for Viktor’s fly. It was all Viktor could do to not thrust forward when Yuuri struggled with the button for a moment. He closed his eyes at the slow rasp of the zipper being dragged downward, the sensation of hands so close but also so carefully not touching him. There was a rush of cool air as the pants fell from his hips at Yuuri’s sharp pull. 

He stood there dressed only in his briefs. The head of his cock, tucked firmly into the waistband in a desperate bid to disguise the rather persistent presence of his erection all evening, was visible just above the elastic. It was flushed dark, begging to be noticed. Viktor looked down, meeting Yuuri’s eyes in a rush of anticipation. Yuuri embraced him loosely, pressing warm hands into his lower back, encouraging Viktor forward until his knees were pressed against to the chair between Yuuri’s legs. Viktor looked down, holding Yuuri’s gaze as his excited ratcheted upwards at the closeness. Yuuri’s fingertips lightly coursed down the swell of Viktor’s ass, delving in small exploratory strokes through the fabric between his cheeks. 

Viktor shuddered and threw his head back when Yuuri pressed at the base of the toy. His hips canted forward, an initial reaction to get away from the teasing pressure, before he tried to press back into Yuuri’s hand. 

Yuuri chuckled softly.

Yuuri pushed his chair back, dropping his hands away. The loss of contact - again - sent Viktor nearly to the edge of tears. He bit his lower lip and let his hands spasm into helpless fists. Viktor was ready to do anything if it meant being touched where he wanted it.

“Follow me,” Yuuri said, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. 

Viktor paused to peel off his socks. 

He was Viktor Nikiforov after all.  
He had some dignity left.  
Somewhere. 

Yuuri reappeared with a dark look directed at Viktor’s dawdling. He pointed into the bathroom, a clear directive, before he he crossed the hall into the bedroom. 

Viktor followed the gesture. The shower was on, slowly heating up the small room. Yuuri’s glasses were folded neatly by the sink.

Viktor leaned against the doorway, all long lithe lines and muscles, decades of dancing, skating, sponsorships and photoshoots giving him the ability to easily drop into poses when he wanted to. He knew how his body could affect people and often played it to his advantage. 

Frustratingly, that advantage could be nullified by his love’s selective attention. 

He watched Yuuri move around the bedroom, track jacket already off. Viktor’s eyes hungrily watched him strip off the t-shirt he was wearing underneath, revealing the smooth curves of his stomach, sidelit muscles catching the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Dark hair gained another level of disarray before Yuuri attempted to smooth it back into place. 

The horrible sweatpants and whatever might or might not have been underneath them - an interesting detail that Viktor filed away for later - disappeared in a smooth motion. 

A very naked, slightly squinty Yuuri returned to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly as he pushed Viktor inside, ignoring the attempt Viktor had made to pose seductively. 

“Get in the shower,” Yuuri breathed. 

Viktor rolled his body up and away from the slouch against the doorframe. He slid his fingers into the briefs he still wore, finally freeing himself from the last bit of clothing. He kept his eyes locked on Yuuri’s. In his current state, a slow reveal was as much of a show as he could manage, but from the gleam in Yuuri’s eyes it didn’t go completely unappreciated. 

Hu turned around, purposeful and slow, stepping into the shower. He looked back over his shoulder, half to keep the spray of water away from his face, and partially to keep Yuuri in view. It was thrilling to watch the way Yuuri watched him. 

“Hands against the wall, Viktor.” 

The noise of the water almost drowned out the soft commands. The tile was still cool against his palms, a contrast to the hot water spilling across him. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Oh _yes._ Yuuri’s voice had gone velvety, something Viktor essentially lived for these days. Carefully, Viktor moved his feet apart as much as he could. Desire practically simmered through the air, heavier and more electric than the heat from the shower. There was a delicious edge to trusting someone so much to let yourself be so exposed like this… the slightly embarrassing knowledge that he _could_ move, could end this sweet torture, but that he chose not to, chose to obey. 

He wanted this so badly. 

And yet… here he still was, alone. “Yuuri,” Viktor pleaded. “It’s been so long, please don’t leave me any longer… I don’t know if I can stand it…” 

Yuuri fixed him with a dark, considering gaze as he lounged against the vanity, quietly demonstrating to Viktor that he would decide what to do and when. The seconds ticked by, painfully slow, as Viktor shivered despite the hot water. But finally _–finally–_ Yuuri joined him in the shower. 

“Shh. Stay just like that.”

Viktor realized he must have been making impatient movements, another sign that his self-control was wearing painfully thin. Silently, Viktor tried to convince his needy body to stay still. Yuuri’s hands danced through the bottles on the side of the shower, the sound of caps snapping just making Viktor more impatient.

But after so long the contact was _amazing._

Yuuri massaged soapy hands into his shoulders, his back, wrapping around to finally glide over Viktor’s heavy, flushed cock. 

His knees threatened to give way, as his legs trembled, muscles tensing up. “Oh,” was the only thing Viktor could gasp out, shamelessly tilting his hips backwards and up towards Yuuri, arching his back. “Yuuri,” he choked out. “If you - I can’t… oh… I’ve been on edge for so long. Might not last long…” he hated to admit it. 

Embarrassment burned as Yuuri immediately pulled away from his cock. Yuuri wrapped himself in a naked, soapy hug around Viktor. “When do you want to come?” He asked, voice gone soft and tender, fingers moving restlessly along Viktor’s body, a sensual distraction.

 

_Now oh please now let me come now_ – biting back what he wanted to say was so difficult. “When you’re inside of me,” Viktor pleaded with a hiss. He wasn’t going to give up on the fantasy that had sustained him during the tedious afternoon. Jealousy briefly spiked through him –he wanted Yuuri’s refractory period, wanted this to not be a question with one answer, wanted to say here, now, and again, and again, until they were both too exhausted to move or think. 

He felt the smile against his back, interrupting those thoughts. “Shouldn’t the answer be whenever I want you to come?” 

Yuuri shouldn’t be allowed to smirk at him like that. Viktor gritted his teeth. “Probably,” he agreed roughly, hanging his head in the water. That wasn’t the right response, he should have something more submissive on his tongue, but words were becoming difficult, especially when the only phrase in his mind was a steady litany of _just touch me touch me now…_ He was walking a knife’s edge of wanting to feel everything right then, and wanting to draw it out and savour it all night.

He could feel Yuuri crouch down behind him, his breath drawing shivering goosebumps despite the hot rivulets of water. Yuuri reached a hand between his legs, tracing a delicate line back from the tip of his cock to his balls, pressing up just enough that he could feel it, but still just as light and teasing as the shower spray.

More fingers were added to the gentle, soapy stroke. When Yuuri wrapped his palm around him, Viktor was absolutely ready to break. He panted wordlessly. Yuuri finally added a bit of pressure, and it was enough, oh, it was almost enough. Tension ran through Viktor’s legs as he tried to stay upright, tried to delay his orgasm, forced himself to hold back from thrusting into Yuuri’s palm until he spilled. 

“Can I try something…?” Yuuri asked, and Viktor nearly lost it at the soft fascination in the question.

Viktor had to screw his eyes shut. “Yes, Yuuri…” Even his arms were shaking. He couldn’t think of anything Yuuri could do that he’d object to at the moment. He couldn’t think. He let his upper body lean forward, pressing his forearms against the shower instead of his hands, resting his forehead on both. 

“I’m not sure if this will work…” Yuuri’s tone was still faintly curious. Viktor’s hands grabbed onto his own forearms.The soft, unwavering, inquisitive voice from such an intimate location… 

“Yuuri… try anything you want just keep touching me please…” The steam was making it harder to breathe. 

With eyes shut Viktor could concentrate solely on sensation. On the feeling when slippery fingers traced the edge where the toy met his body. Knuckles pressed into his muscular glutes, an indirect consequence of Yuuri finally geting a firm grip on the rounded handle. The more deliberate movements against the butt plug were driving him insane - and just knowing it was Yuuri causing them was an aphrodisiac on its own. 

The first gentle pull brought a stream of curses from his mouth. “Yuuri, Yuuri-” Viktor panted out his lover’s name, over and over. More words were needed. “I can’t _mmmmm_ – I don’t know if I can… hold… _aaaaaah_ –”

Words were lost to gasps and moans as Yuuri began to fuck him with the toy a slow rhythm, although barely any movement was possible, the wider flare of the toy pressing back against the tight ring of muscle, the pressure increasing to stretch him and then quickly letting up. Over and over. Yuuri’s other hand was alternating between quick strokes along his cock and desperate grabs on his hips, on the flesh of his ass, pulling him tightly back against the toy, trying to control Viktor’s shuddering hips.

Viktor was lost to it; completely given over to what Yuuri wanted. The stretch, the distant threat of slight pain pushing electric need into ethereal pleasure, edging him closer and closer to release. Viktor’s fingers dug heavily into his own arms, trying to distract himself. Heat coiled against his spine, his cock pulsed heavily in the air. 

Fuck. He was going to come before Yuuri even took the damned toy out. 

Yuuri shifted, the rhythm of his hands getting a little less stable, pulling a little harder stroke by stroke. He stood up, slick body pressing against Viktor, Yuuri’s own erection pushing heavy and hot into Viktor’s leg. The sensation of being so close against him was incredible, especially after feeling so exposed and alone and watched. 

“I’m with you,” Yuuri was whispering, and Viktor realized he’d just been moaning with abandon. That thread of Yuuri’s careful tenderness mingling with him being under complete control was what undid Viktor at last. He was shaking, feeling his legs and stomach tense up, the pressure getting too much. Yuuri’s hands stroked his cock a bit faster and he was gone, throwing his head backwards with a cry as the build-up finally started to break. 

Immediately, Yuuri’s hand abandoned the butt plug and slipped lower between his legs, caressing over his perineum and pressing upwards; hard. 

The orgasm still swept against Viktor. His muscles fell into familiar spasms, the presence of the butt plug drawing attention to the way his entire entrance was throbbing with the force of the sensation. The pressure Yuuri held against him was enough to stop him from coming, although his body writhed in ecstasy. He was only vaguely aware of Yuuri’s arms around him. He was pulled tightly into Yuuri’s chest as they both slowly collapsed against the back wall of the shower. Somehow, they remained mostly upright; Yuuri braced his feet against the lip of the bathtub, holding Viktor in his arms as the orgasm receded. Slightly.

Only slightly. It wasn’t a true release, he was still hard, the desire ebbed with the contractions but only slightly, he was still craving touch. It had been a long time since anyone had attempted that with him… and it had only been the one person… Viktor’s mind spun. 

“Where did you…” Viktor started trying to speak. “How..?” He tried again but his dry mouth and shimmering mind conspired against his ability to form a complete thought. “Who?” He let Yuuri hold him upright, enjoying the luxury of being fucked by a top athlete. 

Yuuri kissed Viktor’s jawline, between his own panted breaths. “You’re so beautiful…” he whispered, sidestepping the question. 

Yuuri’s touch was different somehow, less urgent, slow when it returned to Viktor’s cock. Viktor pressed back against Yuuri, knowing he should probably move but perfectly happy not to, for the moment. Yuuri’s own heart was racing and Viktor slowly pieced together something. “Did you come from watching that?”

“Mmm…” Yuuri agreed hazily. The fingers on Viktor’s hip moved slightly, before reaching up towards his lips. 

Yuuri fingers were coated in the evidence of his own pleasure. Still trying to recover, Viktor kissed them chastely. He slipped his tongue out once, briefly, because he felt he should if it was there, but let the hot water wash most of it away.

With a contented sigh, Yuuri helped them both reclaim their feet, switching places with Viktor. He pushed Viktor’s shoulder firmly into the cool wall. Yuuri’s grip returned to the plug; less teasing now. “Push,” Yuuri murmured, post-orgasmic but still in control. 

Viktor’s whole spine stiffened as Yuuri finally pulled the toy past it’s widest point. The stretch itself was less uncomfortable than the feeling of emptiness that followed. Yuuri held him steady with a hand on his back, while he traded soap for proper lube.

And then his elegant fingers were _dancing_ over Viktor. Viktor gasped into his forearms as Yuuri’s fingers entered him. There was so much more of a connection like this. No more smooth rounded toy, but warm skin on skin, an electrifying, dragging friction, even with the lube. He felt every contour, the slight flare of knuckles, the constant warm movement. 

“How many?” Viktor gasped a question as he forced himself to try to relax around Yuuri’s fingers. Although the toy had stretched him, Yuuri’s fingers were still thicker than the stem of it.

“Just two…” Yuuri answered, sounding amused. “For now.” 

Viktor sunk slowly into an enjoyment of Yuuri’s varied rhythm, feeling the way he slowed his hand when he spread his fingers, the way he sped up when they were pressed together. The small pauses where Yuuri added more lube, pulling his fingers out completely and pushing back in. Viktor could tell by Yuuri’s breathing that he was enthralled with watching the process. His own desire was starting to spiral skywards again. It didn’t take much, not at this point.

The pressure increased dramatically on his tight ring of muscle and Viktor dissolved into gasps, knees bending and pressing his hips forward, away from the near-pain. “That’s three,” Yuuri whispered in his ear, unnecessarily. Viktor keened slightly when Yuuri started to move, and Yuuri stroked his back with his other hand. “Relax…” Yuuri hushed him. The stretch lessened. Yuuri was back to two fingers, moving quicker, searching…

Viktor froze and whispered, “yes,” when Yuuri hit that little bundle bundle of nerves. Yuuri hardly moved, pressing forward across it in little strokes. 

“Better?” Yuuri whispered with a kiss to his neck. 

Viktor nodded a reply, although ‘better’ wasn’t the word he would have chosen. He didn’t trust his voice anymore. Heat and want and need were converging dangerously.

Yuuri pulled his fingers out, slowly, making Viktor writhe again. With hands that were steadier than they had any right to be he gently turned Viktor, pinning him against the wall. He followed that movement with his body, legs alternating with Viktor’s, entwining them together. Yuuri was fully hard again, and Viktor let his head fall back against the wall as their swollen lengths shifted slightly together. Their height difference meant he could feel the hot warmth of the tip of Yuuri’s cock against the lower half of his own. Yuuri’s hips traced compelling arcs, grinding slowly into his feverish skin.

Yuuri’s hands reached up, pushing between his head and the wall to draw him firmly down into an open-mouthed kiss. Viktor groaned and reciprocated the kiss in earnest. Slowly, tentatively, he stroked his arms up along Yuuri’s sides. He pulled Yuuri’s lower lip into his mouth, nibbling, trying to keep him distracted as his arms finally wrapped around Yuuri. He was torn between holding him, tight and hot and solid against him or stroking over his skin with an almost feverish pace. With being forbidden to touch for so long he was practically starved for it.

Yuuri broke away from the kiss with a gasp, looking flushed and disheveled and a bit less in control than before. Viktor’s smile was immediate and involuntary; a slight smirk to tease Yuuri, knowing what he was doing to the younger man. From the curve of his cheek as he ducked away, Viktor knew Yuuri was trying to hide a genuine grin for the sake of their playful game. But he didn’t just turn. Viktor made pained noises as Yuuri pulled away, even if it was just to turn off the shower. Viktor’s roaming hands were caught firmly in Yuuri’s own, and the slightly-serious look was back on his elegant features. Yuuri kissed Viktor’s knuckles and pulled him along as he stepped backwards. 

Viktor tried to hold onto Yuuri’s hands but Yuuri slipped free with a twist. Viktor immediately changed tactics, running his hands up along Yuuri’s arms as Yuuri shivered. He didn’t know how Yuuri could focus on anything else. Yuuri’s distraction with practical things, like finding towels, let him trace lines he loved across Yuuri’s wet body. His fingers whispered up Yuuri’s triceps. Small shivers followed his caresses. This time, he didn’t try to hold still at all. Viktor’s other hand played over the lines of Yuuri’s neck, down along his clavicle, edging lower in slow swoops. A bundle of towel thrust into his chest interrupted his chosen path. 

“Dry,” Yuuri - well, ordered would be pushing it, pleaded was closer to the truth. His face was hidden behind a second fluffy white shield. Ever adaptable, Viktor took the towel he was handed and swung it over Yuuri’s shoulders. His fists twisted into the towel corners, holding Yuuri against him. “I could lick every drop from your body,” Viktor promised, voice low and rough as he slid his slick body against Yuuri, ducking his head slightly to match actions to words. Viktor’s lips parted, skimming across the smooth surfaces at Yuuri’s jaw, his neck. His tongue curled into the pulse there, pushing teasingly before his lips sealed over the skin and he sucked. Hard, then gentler. The water was a teasing prelude, frustratingly tasteless. Viktor wanted sweat, wanted the addictive scent and taste of his fiancé. Yuuri moaned into the towel. 

As skin went from wet to damp the friction increased, pulling sharply at sensitive skin, both of them gasping in turns as they moved. Viktor pushed them both towards the door with small, unsteady steps, keeping Yuuri close to him, trying to find his stumbling way by memory, too enraptured to pull away, kisses dissolving into little scrapes of teeth against the thrum of Yuuri’s heartbeat, the small silences of shakily held breaths encouraging him. 

Viktor had them backed against the door before Yuuri’s hand patted backwards, finding the handle after a few failed attempts. Viktor wasn’t about to let his hold on Yuuri go. 

The caress of cooler air from the room outside cut through the cloying humidity like the first breath of air at the rink. 

If the bed had been any further than those few steps away Viktor wouldn’t have even attempted to make it. He pressed his advantage, pushing Yuuri backwards until their legs hit the edge of the bed. He dropped his hold on the towel, splaying his fingers out wide against Yuuri’s ribs, distracted but attempting to lift him backwards onto the bed. Overbalanced, they ended up in a slow backwards fall. Yuuri’s arms came up instinctively around him, clutching his back, and Viktor arched forward with a groan, tangling their legs together, trying to entwine close enough that not even a layer of air separated them. 

Their skin clung together with a viscid heat, the damp friction overwhelming. With a desperate gasp, Viktor reached up to the head of the bed, finding a bottle of lube, half-blinded by need and the inability to look away from Yuuri, because as Yuuri was pulling and smoothing the other towel into a pale wingspan below him, his chest was lifted off the bed, pressing up to meet Viktor. His chin thrown back, dark hair spilling in damp waves across the pillow. A soft prelude just hinting at the movements Viktor wanted to coax from his body later.

Viktor realized he’d stopped to stare only when Yuuri curled back to the bed deliberate and slow. Those dark, warm eyes positively lanced through him. Caught. _Transfixed._ The small hairs at the back of his neck raised. The sudden shift of power vibrated through the room. It stole Viktor’s breath away. 

Yuuri leisurely removed the forgotten bottle from Viktor’s hand. Viktor sunk his weight more evenly into his hands, holding his upper body up so that he could just drink in the sight of Yuuri beneath him. Yuuri slowly undulated against the bed, the ripple of movement Viktor’s only warning as Yuuri _shifted_ , powerful thighs and calves relentless pushing between Viktor’s legs, forcing them apart. Each movement was deliberate and careful, rearranging them towards a slow inevitability that made Viktor’s heart thunder with anticipation. 

Yuuri’s hands were hot imprints against his sides, keeping him steady as Yuuri drew his knees in, using the corded muscles of his thighs along with his hands to encourage Viktor to lift his hips up; to move forward. Guided by Yuuri’s lead, Viktor found enough purchase on the bed to rise shakily onto his splayed knees, holding as steadily as he could as Yuuri forced space between their hungry bodies. 

His thumbs teased at Viktor’s entrance, pulling it apart slightly. Viktor rolled his hips backwards in encouragement, his heartbeat and breaths loud in his ears against the quiet as the hands left him. He heard the snap of the bottle cap, the slick wet whisper of lube over skin.

“Oh Yuuri….” he breathed. “Please. Don’t make me wait any longer.” He was playing with fire by asking for anything. He knew it. But if he didn’t say something, if he just had to _wait_... Well. Self-control had always been his weak point. His fraying hold on it was kept solely by the selfish desire to be completely _taken._ His teeth against his upper lip grounded him, the edge of pain keeping him there, in the moment, when his body was threatening to either collapse boneless and needy on top of Yuuri, or worse, to pin Yuuri down and _show_ him what he wanted…

He tried to keep his knees underneath him. Tried to be good. Tried to stay where Yuuri wanted him. His body shook with the effort. He watched Yuuri’s face, trying to memorize the faint traces of determination, the dark sweep of eyelashes against pale cheeks as he focused his attention much lower. When Yuuri took a sudden deep inhale, Viktor’s eyes dropped too, watching the way the lube shone in the soft light as Yuuri stroked over himself. He wanted this so badly. 

Yuuri’s hand stilled around his cock. Viktor was again spread and waiting and barely being touched; hard and throbbing in the air between them. He had to drag his eyes up Yuuri’s body, pleading with his gaze against an expression gone reticent with focus. 

But the fingers of Yuuri’s other hand suddenly dug into Viktor’s hip. Viktor was painfully aware that that was their only point of contact. A part of him knew that it was Yuuri keeping him steady, keeping him in place, but he wanted to be touched so badly his body practically vibrated with it. He had to forcibly concentrate on not moving into Yuuri’s hand. 

He could feel the barest hints of Yuuri flexing behind him, his hips raising easily up off the bed. The wide blunt press of Yuuri’s cock slicked across his entrance, dragging purposeful wet lines through the heat of his cleft.

Finally. 

“Oh yes….” Viktor let the word hiss against his lips in anticipation, chasing the syllable out with a small dart of his tongue.

Viktor’s toes curled with pleasure as the little strokes kept changing the angle, rubbing erotic little circles into sensitive skin. Yuuri canted up, and he felt finally, _finally,_ Yuuri start to press inside. Little noises spilled from his lips as he grabbed onto the sheets.

And Yuuri _stopped_ there. 

Viktor’s eyes snapped to Yuuri’s in dismay, even as his hips pushed backwards, chasing the sensation as Yuuri teasingly drew away. A throaty, needy whine escaped his throat. 

Yuuri, his positively _sadistic_ lover, smiled. 

“I like your words….” Yuuri murmured. “But it’s beautiful when they abandon you completely…” 

Viktor’s eyes shuddered shut and he dredged the depths of his memory, readying himself to beg in all the languages he knew between panted breaths if that was what it would take. 

But Yuuri held himself steady. “Go on then,” he said, the wicked little smirk still firmly in place beneath blushing cheeks. “Show me how much you want this…”

That time, when Viktor sunk backwards Yuuri didn’t flinch away. The tip of Yuuri’s cock was a steady pressure anchored by Yuuri’s hand. Viktor shifted, lifting himself onto his knees so he could arch back, one hand surrounding Yuuri’s, the other pressing into Yuuri’s powerful thigh for balance. 

He reclined slowly, the initial dull stretch coaxing pleased hums from his lips. The hums turned to gasps as he relaxed around the crown of Yuuri’s cock. He was unsure if he was teasing Yuuri or himself more with the slow descent… but he loved it. He wanted the slick slide of hot skin _into_ him to last forever, even as it pulled his spine into a deep crescents, sent his fingers and toes into happy spasms. Every muscle in his body clenching, relaxing, repeating. 

Viktor raised his heavy-lidded eyes as his body curled, bottoming out in a beautiful display. 

“Move for me…” Yuuri whispered, his eyes dark. 

It took a moment. But Viktor _moved_. Decades of dance training, endless hours of skating, and an afternoon of lustful thoughts condensed into a powerful fuel. 

Yuuri’s eyes were softening, lashes getting closer to his cheeks as his teeth chased the colour away from his soft lips. He panted below as Viktor _writhed_ , undulating his hips, hands coming up to stroke his own body as he slowly rocked over Yuuri’s length. He swallowed his own desperate need, pushing it out of mind as much as he could to concentrate on his motions. He watched Yuuri fight to keep control. 

Hands tightening around his waist held beckoned him into stillness. Impressively, Yuuri could still manage to form words. “Not what you really want though, hmm?” Yuuri’s question was syrupy with desire, the halting quality of words splayed around quiet little gasps. He sounded sure, like he already knew the answer.

Viktor’s own breath caught. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. He didn’t know how Yuuri would want him to answer that. He was so happy to finally –finally– have Yuuri inside him. But his desire left him balancing on a knife’s edge and he wasn’t sure which side he’d fall to. There was always an enjoyment to teasing and driving Yuuri insane, to riding him to blissful oblivion, but the _craving_ to not have to think, to not have to control his own movements, to be completely and utterly at Yuuri’s mercy, to be used however his lover wanted, was so powerful. The amount of control it took to ride Yuuri like this… the constant, low-level thoughts lingering on the burn in his thighs, the choice of pace, of depth…. Too many decisions, too many thoughts still required. He wanted to give all of that up. But for that, Yuuri had to want to take control...

Yuuri smiled sweetly at his hesitation to put an answer into words, reaching upwards to caress Viktor’s cheek. Viktor pressed into the tender gesture. There was a reassurance to it, melting the worry of whether Yuuri wanted a particular answer. 

“No…” Viktor finally replied, just as softly, rocking his hips backwards gracefully and watching Yuuri’s eyes finally slide closed, that delicious tongue of his darting out fleetingly to wet his bite-swollen lip. Viktor looked down at a man absolutely lost in ecstasy underneath him, and a proud smile teased at his lips. 

At least his answer didn’t seem to be offensive. 

Viktor’s eyes followed Yuuri’s hands as they fell away from his face, dropping to stroke over the lithe body below him, touching places he wanted his hands on, his tongue on. The hands moved lower, changing course to reach for Viktor’s hips. He thinks for a moment that Yuuri means to show him the rhythm he wants, to guide his thrusts, but when the fingers dug into the crests of his hips, they hold him still again. He waited, expectation hanging heavy in the air between them. Yuuri’s hips picked up a faster pace, rolling into him from below, and heat lanced through Viktor with the slick rasp against sensitive flesh. There was something so _sensual_ about Yuuri doing that. Viktor’s easy trust in the man inside him was inebriating. His hands alighting on Yuuri’s chest, just _feeling_ Yuuri move beneath him, _in_ him. Yuuri’s heart was pounding just as rapidly as his own, electric pulses beneath his sensitive hands. Viktor’s fingertips formed a delicate anchor to reality while his mind wanted to drift away with the pleasure. _Yes._ Yes. This was what he wanted. 

He felt his own mouth go slack, fall open. The world narrowed to the sensations between the two of them, vision lost as pleasure-heavy eyelids fell closed. Hot sweat sparked to life against his skin and if he wasn’t concentrating so hard on holding himself _still_ he would be absolutely reeling. The strength behind Yuuri’s quickening thrusts threatened to push him forward. Giving up on staying motionless, he tilted back to meet them, pushing Yuuri deeper inside of him. It was amazing. It was wonderful. There was no way it could last nearly as long as he wanted it to. 

The rhythm beneath him faltered, and an overwhelming yearning for _more_ scratched at Viktor’s consciousness. His hands spasmed against Yuuri’s chest, fingers dragging heavily over nipples as his mind pleaded for this to not be over yet. Yuuri’s eyes snapped open, muscles tensing, and he reached for Viktor’s shoulders. 

The room was a dizzying blur as Yuuri pushed him over. It was ungainly and frantic and hot as hell. Legs crashed over legs, and they slid apart in the aftermath as Yuuri rose above him, straightening out the messy tangle their bodies made with an effortless authority.

Viktor hungrily kissed upwards, stroking whatever he could reach, momentarily pinning Yuuri against him with legs and arms and lips as he sank down into the bed. Yuuri had to start struggling back in earnest. Fingers were woven through his own, catching his hands and pushing them steadily back into the bed. Yuuri leaned backwards, unfocused and glazed-eyed, lazily grinding lube-slick heat against him. Viktor reclined slowly, relaxing though his breath was heavy. 

This… yes. All of this. Viktor flexed his arms slightly, testing the weight against his hands. Satisfaction flooded his system when he realized he couldn’t move much, not with Yuuri’s weight held in his hands like this. This was something he wanted to have –something to struggle against, to take away the of control he unconsciously held to when he was with Yuuri. But Yuuri’s hands left his too quickly. “Tie me down…?” Viktor panted, trying to bait Yuuri into taking the suggestion. His voice sounded needy, even to himself. 

Yuuri sat up slightly, dragging his hands along Viktor’s arms, down his sides before answering. “Mm? You want that?” Viktor nodded, a sense of relief blooming against the back of his eyes. Yuuri’s fingers hooked into his hips, hitched Viktor up against his inner thighs. “I think you’re forgetting something, Viktor.” Yuuri smiled, small and threatening. “This isn’t about what _you_ want.” Viktor startled silence was an answer in itself.

Yuuri’s hands were travelling further, surely leaving memories, definitely leaving _marks_ , on Viktor’s hips as they stroked along his legs, playing chase with the trembling in the tensed muscles there. The next moment, Yuuri’s hands locked solidly around his ankles. Viktor’s breath left him as he was reminded once again of the pure power that Yuuri had hidden in his often-shy demeanor. He swept damp silver hair out of his face, pressing his hands briefly to his face, then letting them fall to the sides. He let his hands stay there, resting them palm up. Close enough to where Yuuri had pushed them. It completed the image of someone spread out and wanton and needy. 

Yuuri licked his lip, uncertainty mingled with desirous wishes before a sense of authority sparked into being, settling over his features decisively. “Tonight you’re mine.” 

Viktor’s eyes were locked on Yuuri’s. A corner of his mind was amused - he could ferociously argue that the timeframe could be expanded. Significantly. But when Yuuri was looking down at him with that burning dark gaze, words were made difficult. Thoughts _themselves_ were difficult. 

Yuuri leaned back a little, gaze flickering possessively over Viktor sprawled out beneath him. 

“And if I tied you down… I wouldn’t be able to get everything I wanted…”

Yuuri’s fingers caressed over his arms, firmly pulling one of pulled Viktor’s hands to his chest. The bottom of Viktor’s stomach did a flip - Yuuri was rarely so bold in this way. Viktor didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He pushed into Yuuri’s chest, running his fingers lightly over his nipples, gently pinching and releasing. He let the quiet little gasps and whimpers guide his hands. 

“Whatever you want,” Viktor whispered. Head thrown back, Yuuri kept rocking forward slowly, eyes tightly shut, body tense and beautiful. 

With shuddering breaths, Yuuri reached out blindly, claiming Viktor’s other hand, pulling it over his hip, around to the swell of his ass. Viktor practically thrummed with pleasure - if Yuuri wouldn’t tie him down than at least he didn’t have to hold himself back. Not now. Viktor’s hand skimmed over Yuuri’s hip, his cheek, delving deeper, lower. He drew circles around the sensitive area, pressing lightly, using the hitch of Yuuri’s eyebrows, the way he shut his eyes, the small intakes of breath to guide his hand. 

Seemingly satisfied that Viktor was where he wanted him, Yuuri braced his own palms heavily against Viktor’s chest. 

Viktor gave a low cry when Yuuri thrust back into him with long strokes, stretching deeper than Viktor would have thought possible. Both his hands tightened, drawing a little moan from Yuuri, followed by a quiet, “You feel amazing.” 

The rhythm broke and reformed as Yuuri shifted, moving on his knees, trying to get the angle he wanted. The same angle that Viktor wanted. Viktor’s moans became sharper. Yuuri’s hands found Viktor’s ankles again, using them to force his knees up towards his chest, bending him deeper, practically folding him into himself. 

And then Yuuri leaned backwards a bit and Viktor cried out, torn between closing his eyes to drown in this dizzying sensation, and watching his lover –quiet and lovely and _dangerous_ , concentrating completely on the quickening movements pushing inevitably towards release. 

Viktor was becoming more vocal. Every time Yuuri’s hips hit his own, the stroke was accompanied by an ‘ah’ panted out, Viktor unable to keep air in his lungs when it felt so good, when Yuuri kept hitting that spot. The tempo between them sped up. 

“Touch me…” Viktor pleaded, feeling a sense of release finally building again, layers of heat coiling threateningly over his consciousness. 

“Says my disobedient lover….” Yuuri smiled gently to take the sharp edge off the words gritted out between breaths. “Maybe I won’t…” 

Viktor keened needily, already half lost to the familiar sensation of expansion, of rising up. He swore he could see not just stars, but galaxies, nebulae, the heights dizzying, the space limitless. Viktor groaned and thrashed his head from side to side, knowing he was going to be in all sorts of disarray, but fighting to stay anchored to the room, to the bed, to this moment. He fought to drag words from the edges of his mind. “Th- was- _ages_ ago,” he panted out. He shut his eyes, hoping that Yuuri would somehow understand. It was too much. He’d disobeyed so long ago. Didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t _remember_ anymore. “Please,” he begged, eyes squeezed tight against a refusal. 

Yuuri let out a shuddering noise of agreement. Viktor forced his eyes open again, against the backdrop of heat, of energy, of momentum, of _everything_ being drawn to the base of his spine and he _can’t_ hold on much longer.

The shackles around his ankles were released as Yuuri moved his hands, entwining one arm around Viktor’s leg, keeping his hips slightly raised. The other pulled vibrant trails across his trembling thigh, pushing it down, away, apart. Insistent, no longer teasing. Viktor fought against that hand, tried to pull his leg inwards too, the tension adding leverage to his twists and bucks, added to the pressure inside him. His hips pulsed violently against Yuuri’s hold, against the long strokes inside him. It’s so much. _Too_ much. Tears stabbed into existence at the edges of Viktor’s eyes. Every nerve was singing. 

When Yuuri’s hand finally reached its destination a noise clawed its way from Viktor’s throat, closer to a sob than anything else. Yuuri’s palm was so hot as it wrapped around him. After so long he was hypersensitive, attuned to every texture, every millimetre of movement. He swore he could feel every crease of Yuuri’s skin, every fingerprint, every fork in his lifeline, in his heartline, all dragging against him, multiplying the sensation of skin over skin. Rougher, messy edges crept into the movement as they both edged closer.

Viktor thrust up once, giving an aborted little cry as the pressure within thundered into a crescendo. He tensed and was lost. The world narrowing to Yuuri’s hand on him, to where Yuuri filled him, supported him, held him. Pushed him to the edge and violently over it. Viktor’s body fractured into pulsing bliss and he came, _hard_. Wet heat shot over Yuuri’s fingers, leaving pearled trails across Yuuri’s hand, his own chest, his shoulder. After being denied this release earlier, now it felt endless. He was falling through empty space, despite the mattress against his back. He was weightless behind the shockwave. The orgasm ripped away from him, leaving him panting and immobile, limbs falling heavily back to the bed. He thrashed against the sheets and Yuuri finally stopped moving against his hypersensitive body, letting him gasp his way into recovering.

Time stretched in strange ways. Everything was still hazy. Yuuri had asked him something. Viktor blinked lazily, unsure of the content. Unsure about words themselves at this point. Yuuri’s tone had been gentle though. He flipped his hair out of his face, gave an exhausted smile and made contented noises. A universal answer. 

He felt boneless, liquid. He could melt into the bed at this point and be blissfully happy. 

Here lies Viktor Nikiforov.  
They said it would only be a little death but they lied.

Yuuri’s hands, his arm, were warm around his leg. He was sheathed so deeply in him still, imprinting hips on inner thighs like they might never come apart. The lack of movement grew more obviously difficult as small squirming movements started to creep in. Viktor took a breath and nodded at Yuuri. He kept making his happy little noises as Yuuri started moving again. He was close to the edge of what he could handle but for now this was ok. Yuuri peppered little kisses into his calf in return, thrusting steadily for a while before his pattern changed, became interspersed with long, tense pauses. 

Viktor luxuriated in the situation, Yuuri too close to be embarrassed at being watched so intently. The afterglow made Viktor’s hands feel heavy, lazy, made it hard for him to keep his hands where Yuuri had put them, so he changed his focus, tensing his body around Yuuri inside him, urging him on.

“Come for me…” Viktor cooed, wrapping his free leg closer around Yuuri, rocking up sensually to meet his movements. He could see Yuuri getting so close. He still felt like his head was half full of fuzz.

A smile flickered across Yuuri’s face, but was quickly lost behind the mask of determination. Viktor reached up as Yuuri curled forward, stroking his thumb gently across Yuuri’s lower lip. A small sound escaped from Yuuri, and Viktor’s eyes snapped open _wide_ when Yuuri whirled, biting into his thumb, his cry not even remotely muffled by the slender digit. His eyebrows knit together as he mewled. A moment later Viktor added his own, louder moan, feeling Yuuri spill inside him. Yuuri’s body was like coiled springs, tense and practically vibrating with energy as he rode out his climax, thrusting a few more slow strokes into Viktor.

The teeth around Viktor’s thumb slowly let go. A breathless, apologetic kiss followed, panted Japanese syllables lost without translation as Yuuri straightened slightly. He gently moved Viktor’s leg aside, pushing it softly back to the bed before collapsing forward, utterly spent. Hands, to elbows, to a wet, sweaty press of bodies cradling two riotous heartbeats. 

Viktor struggled to remember how he was supposed to remain a separate person. 

Yuuri’s hands came up after a moment, so sweetly twining through Viktor’s hair as he placed open mouth kisses along Viktor’s jaw, his lips. When he had enough energy to raise his head too, his eyes were sparkling, searching Viktor’s face. Viktor locked his arms around Yuuri, not caring if they were a sex-slick mess between them. Yuuri’s fingers traced lazy patterns against Viktor’s collarbone.

A tender silence stretched comfortably between them as their breathing slowly calmed.

“Worth the wait?” Yuuri finally asked. Even in a face softened with contentment and happiness and drowsiness, Viktor was sure that those bright eyes meant that he damned well knew the answer. 

Viktor gave a dramatic, playful groan at that, arms digging into Yuuri’s back. ‘Unfair question,” he directed his answer at the ceiling. 

Yuuri laughed, a bit shyly, a bit slowly. But when Viktor’s eyes flicked to him, the grin that spread across his face alone would have been worth the afternoon of suffering. 

“Well?” Yuuri prodded. 

Viktor threw a forearm across his eyes. “No comment.” His left his ridiculous, unquenchable smile completely unobstructed though. 

He was Viktor Nikiforov.  
And he was hopelessly, helplessly, head-over-heels in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope it wasn't too terrible!
> 
> Come tumble with me at [her-paintstrokes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/her-paintstrokes) where I mostly save pretty pictures, but also sometimes post excepts and updates.


End file.
